Steady as the Beating Drum
by Fiercest
Summary: It's 2011 and Donna is beginning to remember. Meanwhile, the Doctor is doing everything he can to forget. Not everyone is who they appear to be. (Full summary inside). Chapter 10: Martha fills the sass vacuum.
1. Donna Does Crosswords

**A/n: Rewatched Donna's season a month ago and have been crying since. Must fix that, people have begun to stare.**

**Full Summary:** For Donna Noble, it has been a two years since her accident and all weirdness aside; she's having an okay time with it. Sure a cocktail of medication and constant occupation are what's keeping her sane but who doesn't have their crutches? New memories soon begin to emerge and someone claiming to be an old friend is desperately in need of her help.

Meanwhile the Doctor has just lost Clara and is in complete and utter denial. The Tardis, having none of it, sends him where he's needed most.

**I can't give much more away without spoiling, but I can say that there will hopefully be a twist or two you won't see coming. It's gonna be a slow build towards Doctor/Donna. If that's not your thing, I hope you'll continue reading as it won't shift that way for quite a while. And if it is; WELCOME TO THE CLUB BUDDY!**

Steady as a Beating Drum

Chapter 1: _Puzzles_

_x_

Donna Noble sat on the hill near her family home staring up at the stars like they were a particularly difficult connect-the-dots puzzle. When she looked up, she knew she was supposed to be seeing something- find some sort of meaning in the spilled diamonds in the sky. But try however hard she might, she couldn't fathom them into logic she could follow.

All her life he grandfather had babbled on and on about the stars. She could spot the Little Dipper and Alpha Centauri on a cloudy day if anyone had asked it of her- strangely, no one ever had. Beyond the names and constellations though, Donna could not shake the feeling that there was something bigger, greater and more Important (with a capital 'I') out there waiting for her.

She tried not to think about it as much these days, it made her head hurt.

"Alright Gramps, you think maybe you should turn in for the night?" She pulled her sweater tighter around her and worried her lip between her teeth.

"Getting weary in your old age Donna, my girl?"

"Oi, don't you get sassy with me. I'm the one who organizes your pillbox every week."

"And I greatly appreciate that Darling," Wilf replied without averting his gaze from the lens of his telescope. "What would I do if I forgot to take my unnecessary iron supplements at exactly noon every day?" Wilf was always disgruntled when someone tried to take care of him these days. He said it made him feel even older than he already was. _'I'm old, not an invalid!' _he'd say.

"Not much, let me feel important for a moment, yeah?" sighed the Most Important Woman in the Universe.

It was October 2011 and it had been almost two years since her accident. The whole world had been displaced and replaced, and she'd been none the wiser, knocked out cold by some kids who couldn't properly drive their scooters. She woke up missing a year of her life.

Oh well, just another on of those Donna Noble stories.

Except…

_(Right now_ she could feel it. The earth was rotating at 460 meters per second, revolving around the sun at 30 000 meters per second, in a solar system whirling around the Milky Way at 220 000 meters per second and being pulled in 46 305 different directions at varying gravitational pulls at minimum 13495 Newtowns and maximum 13858969999999999999999999—

Donna shook loose the train of thought and held her head in her hands. From her pocket she fished out a yellow pill bottle marked _methylphenidate_ (40mg). She dry-swallowed the dusty tasting pill and tried to ignore the surreptitious glances Wilf was throwing her way. Donna stood very still, breathing and trying her damnedest not to fly off the Earth as it turned too quickly for her to hold on. It took 20 minutes for the numbers to quiet, for the twitching in her right cheek to stop. For her mind to calm.

At first it had been very disconcerting. Her mother had insisted on her seeing a professional, who had diagnosed her with severe ADHD (among other things). "It's actually very normal," the psychiatrist, who'd had very kind eyes, had said. "Many women tend to remain undiagnosed until they're challenged. If they're smart it's likely not until uni." Donna had balked. She'd never gone to University. And she was not what you'd call smart.

Most days she just wanted the leaping threads of her thoughts to just untangle. She wished that pulling one didn't mean yanking everything else along with it. Other days, when the medicine was working especially well she felt like a shark that stopped swimming; you stop and you die and such…

She found single-minded focus in puzzles and occupation. When it all got to be too much she did her best to find one single thing to think about and stay on that track. It was a precarious balance between crosswords and medication that kept her sane.

Multitasking was impossible, where it had once been as easy as breathing.

And in the wake of her divorce; she had felt marginally better. It had been hard at first, when he left her, but slowly she had begun to feel like she was better off without Shaun Temple bringing her down. Where before she drifted, now she held course. She felt _better_ than she was, like a whole new woman and people had started to notice.

Donna Noble; making the best of a hard situation. Who would have thought?

It had all started when her agency had sent her to Uto-tech not a week after.

On her first morning Donna had signed at least thirty-something waivers, confidentiality agreements and contracts pertaining to the Secrecy Act. It was explained to her that anything and everything she heard was to go in one ear, out the other and into an incinerator or the word 'Treason' would be thrown around.

And then she'd met her boss.

Dr. Smith was not what she had been expecting. She was young, beautiful and very social- not at all your usual corporate ladder rung type. She chatted with Donna about herself, genuinely interested in the answers to her questions and wasn't afraid to share the odd joke or two. She was her biggest supporter and confidante during her separation and then divorce. Sure, the doctor was a little off; manic and silly, but for the first time in quite a while Donna liked her employer.

She worked there for a month before Dr. Smith asked her to stay permanently.

And every morning since, Donna had a reason to get up in the morning.

X

The next morning Donna took the bus as usual. She found a seat next to a pockmarked teenager in a black cap and carrying a green apron.

Side to side she swayed as the driver stopped and started again, picking up the regulars along the route. She'd finished her first crossword of the day by the time she was halfway to work. For a while she just sat there staring at the black and white boxes with blue ink scrawling sketchy letters inside them, letting her mind roam.

She was jolted out of this period of reflection by the zit-y boy beside her.

"What?" she stressed in an annoyed tone. The boy, taken aback and slightly unnerved pointed to a man sitting directly across from her.

The man was very tall. His long legs were stretched out into the aisle and his pants were too short; exposing his lack of socks. White ankles jutted out above the tops of shiny black shoes. Eventually her eyes made their way to his face; creased by wear and beholden to bushy grey eyebrows threatening to curtain his eyes. Hm, and a full head of hair. If he hadn't been staring at her desperately, like a bloody creeper she might have been flattered.

"Allo," he offered with a wave.

Ugh. Donna rolled her eyes and did a sarcastic parody of his motion.

"I was just- uh…" _Out with it then!_

"Uh, four down is pentagon."

Donna was taken aback for a moment and looked down at her completed puzzle. "Agatha Christie's Dictaphone victim is a pentagon, is it?"

He didn't seem like he had much to say after that, and his big eyes and pleading gaze was giving her an uncomfortable chill. She felt as if she'd seen him before and that it had not been a pleasant encounter. Perhaps in the year she couldn't remember?

Either way, there were warning lights going off in her head and if there was one thing you learned as a woman in London it was to listen when your instincts told you that you had just encountered a Bad guy.

At the next stop she disembarked (eight stops too early) and raised her arm to hail a cab. She had no patience for nutters today, even vaguely good looking ones. Perhaps with her raise she might be able to afford halving her commute by moving out of her mother's. She'd been looking at a nice little flat with white walls that reflected the sunlight-

(Reflection: the change in direction of a wavefront, in this particular case 360-760 nanometers in length- visible spectrum- the ninth satellite of rexocolis 14 which was a naturally occurring prism that threw rainbows over the planet and colored the sky in different parts different hues, attributed to the planet's different sort of atmosphere- the Earth's atmosphere has a 78.084% concentration of nitrogen- breathable by Humans and Septuplepods on Euwedeka—

x

"Hallo Doctor," Donna chimed that morning when she got in. As usual, her boss was already in. Try as she might, she could never quite beat her to the office and ceased trying after the first week. Dr. Smith smiled and waved in a fluttering way then returned to her drumming fingers and reams of paperwork.

The day progressed as normal for the first while, until the phone rang. "Dr. Smith's office, Donna speaking. What can I do for you today?" she asked in a chipper tone.

There was silence on the other end. Even when she listened closely she couldn't hear breathing at all. Donna tugged at the wire in the phone's cradle seeing if it was still connected- it was.

"Hello?" she tried, staring into the speaker. "This is Donna Noble. Is anyone there?"

Silence.

"Oi, I know you're there. Speak up or I'm hanging up!"


	2. The Tardis is always right

**A/n: Many apologies for the weird upload of this chapter. All fixed now!**

Steady as the Beating Drum

Chapter 2: _The Tardis is Always Right_

x

"Is there any particular reason you're being obstinate today or is it just that time of the month?!" the Doctor demanded of the Tardis as he was almost thrown from the controls.

The Tardis rumbled in its outrage. The deck around the console vibrated beneath his feet. Spanners shook themselves off their perches and clattered to the floor.

"You're right, I'm sorry. That was rude. Almost as rude as _the hunk of junk ship of mine not doing as I say_!"

In his mind's eye the Doctor saw Clara's stern face. She'd have pursed her lips and demanded he stop shouting.

A whir, as if to say 'when have I ever done as you've said?'

Behind him the door flew open, slamming against the wall with a resounding _bang_. "What's outside?"

More sassy whirring.

"Now don't give me that. I'm in no mood."

_'One last adventure, you and me Doctor.'_

The lights flickered and the Doctor shook his head and decided it was likely best to just do as the old girl said. Happy wife, happy life and all that.

The doctor took a tentative step outside, expecting wonders, horrors, or both, only to find himself standing at a bus stop that smelled like 21st century London. Behind him, the door to the Tardis slammed shut, smacking him on the bottom and causing him to pitch forward into the street.

"Oi mate, what the bloody hell do you think yer doin'!?" Shouted the bus driver who'd had to break suddenly to avoid splattering him across the pavement. This body was new yet; it would be a waste to lose it so soon.

With a backward glance at the Tardis and a huff whistling through his nose, the Doctor searched his pockets for the Oyster Card that Clara had given him and boarded the bus.

Surreptitiously, he glanced around. It was the early bus. The keener businesspeople, nurses and teenagers with coffee shop uniforms made up the population of commuters. He took a seat and systematically parsed out each individual, wondering what was so special about this hour and the 206 busline.

The stormy blue of his gaze fell on the woman seated directly across from him. She was engrossed in the crossword on her lap and was chewing the cap of a blue ink pen into flatness. Her red hair glistened in the early morning sunlight and her lips were pursed in concentration. He wished she would look up so he could meet her eyes.

There, not two feet from his knees sat Donna Noble. In all the universe; time and space alike, here she was, looking the same as ever.

Was this why the Tardis brought him here?

"Excuse me," he found himself saying curtly.

Donna didn't look up.

He cleared his throat loudly. The entire population of the bus looked up, excluding Donna.

A teenage boy in a cap emblazoned with the Starbucks logo nudged Donna out of her reverie. She looked up at the youth, scowling. He nodded his head in the Doctor's direction, which shifted Donna's irritation onto him.

"Allo," he muttered with an awkward perfunctory wave.

Donna's eyes widened and in the span of a moment narrowed into slits. She gave a sarcastically enthusiastic swipe of her hand through the air before rolling her eyes and returning to drumming the pen in a familiar beat against her lips.

"I was just, uh..." What exactly did he think he was doing? She was a friend from another lifetime entirely. It had been almost a hundred years for him since... Well, since. What good would this do? Did the Tardis think he was lonely? Was she telling him to quit his whining? 'Buck up, this isn't lonely. THIS is lonely. Now stop moping.'?

He'd been a wreck for the rest of that regeneration and beyond. The new man who had walked away had taken that baggage with him, and handed it off to good old Twelve it seemed.

Donna was still looking at him.

"Uh, four down is pentagon."

"Agatha Christie's Dictaphone victim is a pentagon is it?" She retorted before showing him her completed puzzle. 'Roger Ackroyd' written neatly in the boxes of 4-down.

At the next stop she jumped to her feet and got off.

The doctor remained in his seat until the end of the line. The bus terminal was in the center of the technological district and directly across from it was Uto-tech.

"Well. This is a bit of a letdown."

The familiar wheezing of the Tardis materializing sounded to his left. She had parked herself between two trees planted for the beautification of the city. "Great field trip," he told her with an eyeroll, "it could be worse, wouldn't someone's grave be nicer? More tongue in cheek I'd say. You know, I wasn't moping. I do not mope. I can manage just fine on my own."

Wheezing from the rafters.

"Come along-ooooh," he smacked his lips and clucked his tongue, "those words do not taste right anymore. Onwards to the rift in Cardiff. Piloting yourself could not have been good for your energy stores."

Whizzing from the transducing anti-displacement mechanism.

"Oi, don't you get sharp with me. Who decided to nip from one end of the universe to Chiswick? It certainly wasn't me."

X

The doctor hadn't planned on exiting the Tardis. It was Cardiff after all. But the compunction of his earlier encounter made him restless.

He burst through the door into the open air near the docks where the old Torchwood headquarters had been. Directly in his line of vision was a tall cubic warehouse lined with puce metal sheets that rusted at the edges. Snow piled on the flat roof and fell like melted white chocolate down the sides. Written in enormous letters across the side of the building was _Uto-tech_.

"Hm," hummed the Doctor. Perhaps the Tardis hadn't gone sap on him afterall.

He couldn't very well look it up in the Tardis database, lest he make them Ending the World a fixed point, a buttress on which the universe would stand and weep.

So the Oncoming Storm walked down the street to a café and stood imposingly over a teenaged boy's shoulder until he relinquished his laptop to him. With a click he closed the tabs for reddit and the hidden tab for 'Big Cocks' then went to work.

The CEO was a Dr. Masie Smith. The article described her philanthropic past as an organizer for Doctors Without Borders and her meteoric and unlikely rise up the corporate ladder of Uto-tech to become the owner's successor once the company became public. It was accompanied by a picture of a smiling black woman in her mid-thirties with a wide smile, full lips and strikingly large eyes.

Well she couldn't very well be real now could she.

With a terse "Thanks," he left the youth to his gross public indecency and made for a payphone.

The Doctor soon learned that it was a difficult thing to contact a CEO directly. Calling the corporate office gave him very little luck and the outsourced customer service representative seemed flustered at being asked _what exactly they did there_.

Eventually he gave up the reigns of the search to the Tardis' superior ability to just telepathically know how to find exactly what he was looking for.

What he was looking for chilled him to the bone.

"Dr. Smith's office, Donna speaking. What can I do for you today?"

Hm.

**a/n: Clara grows on me more and more with every episode in her season with Capaldi. I'm a little disappointed that I can't keep her on as a primary companion for this story. But the plot goeth as it wishes… We'll learn her fate at some point and it'll play an important role later.**

**I'd really like to know what you guys think of the story. I'd also really like some help with the summary; if anyone's got a better suggestion I'd really appreciate it!**


	3. Girl Talk Near the True North

Steady as the Beating Drum

Chapter 3: _Girl Talk Near the True North_

_x_

"I'm taking my lunch," chirped Donna pleasantly, popping her head into her boss' office. "Need anything?"

Maisie surveyed her desk and stood. "Yes, definitely. Wait just a tick?" She typed out a quick two sentences before standing upright. She primly smoothed the wrinkles in her posh black skirt and made to grab her jacket and bag. "Done. Okay, lets go."

Sometimes Dr. Smith did that; just dropped everything to share a coffee break.

They went to a cute little café only a few blocks east. It had flower boxes on the fence encircling the terrace and blue shudders on the windows.

"I've been thinking of going back to school," Donna was saying. "Well, not 'back' exactly. Never went to school. But I think it could be good. I'd go at night of course," she assured her boss, "And it wouldn't really lead to anything. Just for fun. I could study something useless like Zoology or Geography. They offer special grants for people my age, so I could go for practically free! That would be a load off what with Shaun and everything. My mum thinks I'm daft. _'What are you gonna do with a degree? Piss away your money on something like that, you're just asking for trouble. What if you have kid?'_" Donna mimicked Sylvia's shrill lecture. "She's still holding out hope on that one."

"I think it's great," the doctor assured her. "Zoology could be interesting. You ever think of Astronomy, maybe?"

Donna was thrown for a moment. She felt strange, like she was supposed to know and remember something but wasn't."

"-because of your granddad I mean," continued Maisie.

"Right, right," said Donna, a little breathlessly. She shook her head, dislodging the imaginary cobwebs that clung to her thoughts. "So you think it's a good idea?"

Maisie smiled widely and took Donna's hands between hers. "I think it's fab."

"I'm so sorry. Here I am chatting your ear off and you haven't said a word about how you're doing. How's the boyfriend?" Donna gave her a salacious wink. He'd met Dr. Smith at the office once or twice; very fit.

"No no, I like to listen. He's fine. How are _you_ doing on that front?"

"Ugh," groaned Donna, "Don't remind me. Shaun is being a real piece of work, let me tell you!"

_'I will remember you, _

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by,_

_Weep not for the memories.'_

"What?" asked Donna while shaking her head.

"I said 'I'm sorry to hear that.'" Dr. Smith was looking at her with great concern.

"Yeah," she replied with another shake of the head, "got distracted by the music, it's a little loud in here."

The gentle ballad wafted in the air, drifting between the steaming food and the hungry patrons.

"Let's get out of here, yeah?"

X

When they got back to the office Donna was surprised to see a little girl sitting in her chair, spinning in circles and staring at a tablet. "Hallo."

The little girl bobbed her head vaguely in her direction.

"Oh shoot," grumbled Dr. Smith, "This is my boyfriend's niece. I forgot her mum was dropping her here for the day." She walked over and stopped the chair. "Will you behave for Donna? I've got a lot of work to do." The little girl- aged around six or seven –bobbed her head, flipping her blond pigtails.

Dr. Smith immediately spun on her heel and headed towards the door, gesturing for Donna to follow closely, "I am sorry, I really am. I've got some meetings, can I just leave her with you?"

"Sure thing," Donna agreed, much to the doctor's obvious relief. "Go on, I can handle it."

With mutterings of thanks, she did.

Donna suddenly realized that she did not know the kid's name.

"Jane," the child mumbled when asked.

Jane was quite able to entertain herself; there wasn't much Donna needed to do for her. At every question she shrugged or grunted, quite a strange thing for a girl of seven. Donna herself had started babbling at age two and hadn't stopped since.

They sat in awkward silence for the rest of the afternoon. Or at least, it was awkward for Donna.

"How's school goin'?" she tried to ask, only to receive a shrug in exchange for her efforts. "How come you're out today?"

"Hasn't started yet."

"What sort of music do kids listen to now?"

A shrug.

Eventually she stopped trying to connect to the unsettling little girl.

Around six Donna was on the phone with Shaun and his solicitor and had been for the past quarter hour, shouting obscenities at the pair. "If you think you can just keep it all, you've got another thing coming mister! I will make your life bloody miserable! I will tear your tongue out THROUGH YOUR EURETHRA!" thundered Donna. "Don't you hang up on me! DON'T YOU-!" She slammed down the receiver and dropped her face into her hands and groaned loudly. She felt like screaming. Winning the lottery was supposed to take the pressure off wasn't it? It was never supposed to be like this. Well, serves her right for putting it all in his name she supposed...

A polite cough alerted her to the presence of a fellow adult.

"Oh," she quickly swiped at the frustrated tears in her eyes. "Hullo. You must be Jane's dad."

He was very tall and skinny, with hair that shot up and then swooped to the side in an artful curl. He had the faint shadow of stubble on his jawline and a dimple in his chin. _'Skinny streak of nothing,'_ Donna found herself thinking.

"Uncle," he corrected. "We've met before, I'm Dr. Smith's bloke." Donna relaxed a little at his joking manner.

"Oh god I am terrible, shouting and swearing in front of a kid."

"Nah."

A beat of quiet, broken only by the vague humming coming from Jane's headphones.

"Joshua Gregory," his handshake was firm and warm. "Creditors?"

"You could call 'im that."

X

_'Ugh, Nerys.' _Donna positively rolled her eyes at the empty kitchen. _'Shame it's her who has all the good gossip.'_

'And he's leaving her!' Nerys was saying over the phone.

"NO!" a sickly pit of guilt settled in her stomach. She suddenly wasn't hungry for the TV dinner, which was being heated in the microwave. "For that redheaded tart?"

'Well it serves them both, they weren't _happy_. Then again I don't think Sherry has been happy a day in her life!'

"Poor thing," Donna sighed. '_That's unlike me.'_ Perhaps it was because it was the very similar situation she'd been in for months.

'I say, those pieces of shit deserve each other. Sherry can move on now, maybe actually get a life!'

It occurred to Donna that Nerys was absolutely right. Weird.

'Oh, I'm sorry Donna. I shouldn't have said anything so soon after Shaun dumping you like rubbish on the side of the road.'

"Thanks Nerys," Donna grit through her teeth. '_There it is_.' "He did not dump me. It wasn't like we were going steady and he'd ditched me at prom. We were married."

'I don't really see the difference.'

Truthfully, Donna wasn't sure she could anymore either.

The microwave beeped and Donna took her food to the table while Nerys nattered on about their friends' troubles. She tuned her out and briefly perused the page the paper was open to. She opened it up to the September book recommendations. She'd found that the harlequin romance type books were the best for killing her 'episodes' but sometimes the odd existential hipster bullshit worked too.

**'A Journal of Impossible Things Vol. 2'**, by Verity Newman (There was no way that name was real was there?)

_Adapted from journals found in her grandmother's attic, Verity Newman weaves a tale of adventure, love and heartache based on the life of a school teacher; John Smith (August 1875— November 1913)._

_'The Doctor' is a tragic hero; an alien from another world who travels time and space in search of anyone who needs help. He is cursed to seemingly live forever, go on endless adventures and lose every friend he makes along the way-_

Donna leapt from the kitchen chair and fell to her knees in front of the bin, hurling into the noxious smelling receptacle. She groaned like something undead, her heart beat wildly between her shoulders and she'd broken out in a cold sweat.

'Donna? Donna!' Nerys trilled through the telephone.

"I've gotta pop off now, ta."

'Donna-!' she cut the line off without remorse.

"I know that story," she whispered to herself through a curtain of hair. She was on all fours now, trying to find purchase on the cold tile, trying to find something to focus on other than that stupid story, about some stupid man who did stupid, terrible things! The bird brained, foolhardy prawn! Always thinking he knows what's best. Alright? Sure, she was alright, if in his stupid Martian language alright meant-

"Donna? Donna, love, are you alright?" Sylvia flew into the room and held Donna's face in her hands. She stared into her eyes with such utter panic that for a moment Donna was honestly flattered. "Donna, what's happened?"

"I-?" What had she been thinking about? Like a dandelion in the wind, whatever it was had flown right out of sight, into nothingness.

**A/n: Thanks so much for reading everyone! I'm really enjoying writing this; I don't think I've ever cranked out a story this quickly. It's a shame Donna's day in the sun was so long ago, not much of a fandom left behind now. But I'm sincerely enjoying reading the fics that I can find! If anyone's got recommendations for me that'd be great.**

**Let me know what you think! (And to take a page out of ****_Lilac Summers_**** book) 'Reviews are like a cozy picnic on the beach. Except instead of a blanket, you're sitting on the Tenth Doctor, and instead of eating fishy smelling sandwiches, you're sucking face.'**


	4. The Doctor makes a house call

Steady as the Beating Drum

Chapter 4: _The Doctor Makes a House Call_

_x_

His eleventh regeneration had been more foolhardy than his preceding or current self. He was every bit the madman in a box he'd claimed to be, the raggedy doctor coming unhinged at every moment; never quite closing the door on sanity, but never walking all the way in either.

In his darker moments—and they were dark—he could be more destructive than any other man he'd been before. After losing Amy and Rory he'd gone into a tailspin he couldn't pull out of, nothing would rouse him from the stupor of regret. For a man who didn't like endings the Doctor encountered many.

In one of his fouler moods he visited earth, circa 2010.

He was fresh with the loss of the kind of man who stands sentinel for a thousand years, for a woman who imagined reality back into existence… These were the only terms in which he could think of them. The Doctor could not bring himself to remember more than what they'd done. He refused to think about _who_ they were. If he did- well, if he did then in a weak moment he might actually…

The man in the bowtie with the child-like disposition had an inner darkness that receded more and more with the Ponds' presence. And when they were gone, the dam burst; depression washed over him like waves on the shore, taking just a little more of him away with every sweep.

It was in this state that 2010 called to him, the pied piper of his nightmares.

"Hello there, Wilf!" The Doctor exclaimed with a big smile on his face. He adjusted his bow tie and counted to ten in his head to see if the smile would last. "Still working the pavement old chum? Sylvia not worn you down about retirement?" He realized that he was puffing his chest out too much, that he looked like a cartoon trying to be manly. He deflated with a whoosh, his posture falling inwards. "Alright, okay. Yes."

A shaking hand ran through thick sandy locks, trying to smooth out the disarray. It had been quite some time since he'd left the Tardis. Human interaction seemed to be a long forgotten skill.

Another deep breath and the Doctor turned away from the mirror in which he'd been practicing acting like a functional person. "No time like the present… so to speak!" The Tardis hummed her approval.

He stepped outside into the alley near Wilfred's newspaper stand. It was a sunny late August afternoon in bustling sweaty London.

He pretended to peruse the magazines while studiously not making eyecontact with the proprietor. _'Ok, any second now. On three, speak… one… two…'_

"Look lad, I'm real sorry but I don't sell the kind of magazines you're looking for," Wilf sighed, as if he'd had to explain this to a dozen people today.

"Sorry?" The Doctor's eyes came into focus, he'd been pretending to stare at women's magazines.

"Generally when a young man is staring at Cosmo that long they're hintin' for me to offer some dirty mags."

"What? No, oh no no no, Mott, Old Man it's me! The Doctor!"

"Doctor?" He laughed sharply, and threw his arms in the air in celebration. "Doctor! Is it really you?" Wilf came out from behind the stand and hugged the young-looking man. "Look at you! I didn't recognize ya!"

It occurred to the Doctor that no living thing had touched him since Amy had slipped through time. And how this body loved contact! The warmth of the old man's embrace was a comfort.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm alright." '_The Time Lord sort of alright, maybe.'_

"Do you…" Wilfred seemed reluctant to voice whatever his concern was. "Donna's coming by any moment with her young man, do you need to… go?"

"No," sighed the Doctor, "She's never seen this face."

As if on cue, she announced her appearance with a shout. "Oi Gramps! Did you tell Mum we're coming to dinner this week? That was right unfair of you, you know!"

"I refuse to incriminate myself!" Wilf shouted back with a guffaw.

"Watch it, you!"

Beside Donna trailed a very tall man with broad shoulders. He had creases of stress in his forehead and smile lines. _'Shaun_,' his memory supplied.

"Hello Wilfred," greeted Donna's husband cordially. "Who's your friend?"

The Doctor nodded his head in his direction. "John Smith," he leaned forward with a big stupid grin to shake the man's hand. "Shaun Temple, am I right?"

"Yeah," he enthused while vigorously shaking the Doctor's hand. "How'd you guess?"

"I met a John Smith once, looked nothing like you," Donna piped up, not even looking up from her phone's screen. At the shocked silence she finally made eye contact, looking bored. "Never forget a face."

"No, you certainly do not. Me 'n John go way back."

"I thought you said your name was John."

"It is! Funny world innit?"

Blank looks and rolled eyes from Donna.

The Doctor bounced back on the balls of his feet. "Anyway… Mott over here was just telling me about the wedding."

"Yeah," Donna's eyes twinkled as she geared up to talk about her favorite subject, "Little under a week ago."

"A week!" '_A week?!'_

"No honeymoon?"

"No," Donna's tone turned flat and the familiar look of frustration and exasperation (at his stupidity), "Can't afford one quite yet." He could almost hear her teeth grinding together. "What are _you_ getting judg-y for, you twit? With that you ratty secondhand hipster clothes?!"

Shaun placed a placating hand on Donna's arm, "Easy love."

And in that gesture the Doctor saw her entire life stretch out in front of her; the happy life she'd spend with this man, who for all accounts seemed very sweet.

He shouldn't have come.

There were dozens of timelines that he could see behind Donna, dozens of could-have-beens that tangled together and frayed and diverged. Some threads were knotted, others had dead ends. They all lead to this life. And only one lifetime stretched in front of her now.

He _really_ shouldn't have come.

X

"Donna, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Sylvia's uncharacteristically soft voice gently woke Donna from slumber. She awoke to her mother stroking her fringe off her forehead. She felt sweaty and sluggish.

"Mmyeah, mum what's going on?"

Sylvia bit her lip and glanced around Donna's room, "You were ill last night."

"I was? I don't remember that."

"That's ridiculous, you got sick all over my kitchen!"

"I did?"

"You did!"

Donna groaned at the high pitch of her mother's voice, she hid beneath the blankets. "Sorry."

"You were also…"

Something about the tone she was taking made Donna reemerge. "What? What was I doing?"

"You kept asking for 'the Doctor'."

"That is very _weird_."

"Darling…what does it mean? What were you dreaming of?"

"Not sure, I don't think I was dreaming about Dr. Smith."

"Dr. Smith?"

"Maisie Smith, _my boss_. It's like you don't even listen!"

"It's not my fault you don't tell me what's going on in your life Madam!"

"I _do_, you just don't listen!"

Inwardly, Sylvia's heartbeat was slowing to a normal pace. Donna was not remembering. She was only sick, only dreaming. Sylvia could almost convince herself of that if not for this sudden bout of convenient amnesia.

x

In his present, the Doctor took the time to think about it all. He sat down on the jumpseat of the Tardis, facing the controls, knowing that though he felt the all encompassing need to rush; he did indeed have a time machine and time was never of the essence when you could pause it for indeterminate amounts of time.

When he looked at Donna he should have seen her life stretching out in front of her; the timeline of her life moving ever forward, just like it had when he'd seen her so many years ago. He _should_ have seen the zigzagging nonsense behind her.

Instead he saw nothing; no timelines converged around Donna Noble, no future. He didn't even see an end. For Donna Noble, apparently there was only 'Now'.

x

"What are you watchin'?" Donna asked. Jane was spending the day at the office again.

Jane shrugged, but she took out her headphones and turned the screen towards Donna. Oh well, progress was progress.

It was the movie with the fish. The blue one was gazing into the camera with terrible sadness.

"It's over Dory," said the orange fish with the sad old eyes. "We were too late."

"No, no you cant! Stop!" Anxiety crept into Donna's heart, "Please don't go away. Please? No one's ever stuck with me for so long before. And if you leave…" it was suddenly very difficult to breathe, "When I look at you I can feel it. And I look at you and… I'm home. Please. I don't want them to go away. I don't want to forget." Donna did the same thing when she was upset; she kept shaking her head as if telling the bad things in the world 'no' would stop them from happening.

"I'm sorry, but I do," said the orange fish in a cutting voice.

Donna felt a nudge at her elbow. Jane was handing her a tissue. She reached up to touch her face, only to realize that she had been crying.

_I don't want to forget._

_I don't want to forget._

**_I don't want to forget._**

X

**A/n: Don't forget to leave a review to tell me what you think!**

**~Fiercy**


	5. Donna dreams of white rooms

**A/n: Sorry it took so long after that kind of cliffhanger, got a spot of writers block. But now I'm back! (And so are some more old friends).**

Steady as the Beating Drum

Chapter 5: _Dreaming of White Rooms and Trusted Friends_

X

The Doctor exited the Tardis, fully expecting to be just outside the London branch of Uto-tech. What he found was the fishy air of the docks of Cardiff, and an unfriendly smirk on a familiar face.

"Is it bad that I'm feelin' pretty good about how damn old you look?"

"Mickey, not the time."

"Martha Jones…" the Doctor gulped.

"That's Martha _Smith_ to you, mate," Mickey sniped accusingly.

"Smith-_Jones_," growled Martha, not looking terribly thrilled. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her hip jutted out in that familiar brassy way of hers.

The Doctor held up his pointer finger and pressed his lips together, "Just a minute." He then stepped back into the Tardis and slammed the door on their noses.

"DOCTOR!" he heard Martha shriek, accompanied by banging on the door.

The Tardis growled angrily, like a car revving in neutral.

"Shut up."

Levers were pulled, dates and coordinates reset and the Doctor was on his way.

He opened the door once again, expecting London, only to be faced with Martha and Mickey- both seething.

"No."

Martha erupted. "What have you got to say for yourself?! You break the universe again and _you don't even call me_!" she slapped him repeatedly on the arm, "What. Is. The. Matter. With. You!?"

"Oi! You're so violent!"

"I get that way when I relive the same day THIRTEEN DAYS IN A ROW!"

"What."

"Yeah," Mickey piped up from behind his wife, "what's up with that?"

"Oh shut up Mickey," groused the Doctor, "What _is_ going on?" he mumbled under his breath, much to Mickey's exasperation. He quickly turned tail and launched himself back onto the Tardis- the Smiths trailing behind.

X

Donna felt as if she were in a desert; dry, parched and too hot. She drifted in and out of lucidity, weaving about between comprehension and oblivion. Her head pounded as if it had been smashed with a hammer. When she opened her eyes, the room was too bright and colors blurred like a mirage on the horizon.

"Oh Donna, you're brilliant!" someone was saying. And yet she had not a single clue from which direction the voice was coming; it seemed as if it were everywhere at once.

She blinked the world's fuzziness away and found herself still in her office, but also not. It was still too bright; like morning light being let in after a hangover. Or heaven in the movies. And in the very center of the room was a glass column surrounded by bits and bobs. Inside the column something pulsed up and down to the rhythm of a heartbeat. She felt very warm.

Donna rubbed the sweat off the back of her neck and then rubbed that off on her trousers. She stood up and walked closer to the column, that upon closer inspection looked like a control desk in a space travel movie; except this one had a boot screwed heel-side down onto a lever and a beanie hat with a propeller that appeared to be bronzed.

_Where am I?_ She tried to say out loud.

"Brilliant Donna Noble, knew I kept you around for some reason!" There was no door, but Donna had the sense that he'd entered the room right behind her, not a moment ago.

"Yeah, I'm normally a real drag," she found herself replying in a teasing manner.

She could see the man through the glass column, smile distorted wide by the refraction of light.

"Never say that, even joking!" he tutted and walked around to meet her, lovingly stroking the dashboard as he walked. "Another world saved by Smith and Noble. What _will _we do next?"

"Probably get into lots and lots of trouble."

The man was taller than her, but not by much. He was also obscenely skinny, with hair that stuck up in front and big brown eyes that crinkled at the edges, pulled by his enormous, manic grin. He even bounced when he walked. The man was utterly ridiculous, and yet, Donna had rarely felt more appreciation and care for a person. She could tell all that, she could recall his smile, and yet she could not really see his face properly. It was distorted somehow, like she was wearing specs with smudges, or like she was only getting bits and pieces.

Even as she thought this, Donna knew it was all a dream; that this wasn't real and neither was this strange affection. Still, it felt more real than a lot of things these days…

The man casually leaned against the console and flipped a switch.

"So, big universe out there. Where would you like to go?"

Donna could not move or speak beyond the script already set out by this strange dream, but she was not afraid. She smiled on the inside even as the dream body she inhabited did the same. "Why don't we let the Old Girl choose?"

"Alright then, go on." The skinny man with the kind smile stepped aside and gestured grandly at the column. _Tardis_. _That's not even a proper word._ But she knew it all the same.

Donna found herself stepping forward and hesitantly flicking switches and pushing buttons. She glanced up at the skinny man nervously. "Doctor…?"

"Bang on, keep going." More buttons and lights flashing and then-

She lurched off her feet, the world tilted sideways and she was falling. 'Doctor' as he was apparently called grabbed her hand and held on tight. He'd managed to grab the lever with the boot. "What did I do?" she screamed and her throat burned.

"Nothing! You didn't do anything."

"No no no no, I want to stay-!"

"Donna-"

"No, no, please. Please no."

"Donna, do you trust me?" his eyes were sad, his expression unreadable. She felt her grip on his fingers slipping. "Look at me. Donna, do you trust me?"

Calm settled over her, her body went slack. "Yeah. Yeah, Spaceman. I trust you."

"Donna Noble. I am so sorry. But we had the best of times. The best."

And then he let go.

She was pulled away, flying through a door that had suddenly opened into bright white lights. "I'll find you!" he screamed, still reaching for her. "I will fix this!"

And then a blue door slammed shut.

X

**A/n: Thanks for dropping in! Reviews are always great; I'd love some feedback from whoever's out there in the void reading my silly little fic :) **

**Next update soon!**


	6. The Doctor loses patience

Steady as the Beating Drum

Chapter 6: _The Doctor Loses His Patience_

X

Donna felt an overwhelming pain in her heart; grief and loss with which she was unfamiliar. It was a fresh wound in her psyche, ripping her apart and making tears well and burn in her eyes. Whoever this was, he was important. He was everything. 'The Doctor' was someone she clearly cared about very deeply and yet she wasn't sure if he was even real! Perhaps someone she knew in the year she forgot? What fresh hell was this?! Loving a dream. Well, bollocks to that! Her patheticness had reached a new level, clearly and Donna was not comfortable with heights.

"Donna," a familiar voice beckoned from behind her closed eyelids. "Donna, are you alright?"

Her eyes fluttered open, to be met with a face haloed in fluorescent light. He had a long skinny face and a pointy chin, his hair stuck up in the front in messy brown disarray and his big brown eyes were staring at her worriedly. She had the sense that she knew him.

"Oi, hands!" she shrieked, once she found her bearings. She scrambled away from Dr. Smith's boyfriend with frantic desperation.

"I wasn't-!" Joshua groaned, rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. "You hit your head Donna. I was just making sure you were okay."

"Sure you were, mate."

Joshua sighed and got to his feet. He then bent down to try and hoist her to her feet. From this vantage point Donna could see how tall he was, and looking up at him like this triggered something in her memory. "Oi! Hands I said!"

"I'm trying to help you," he grunted, still tugging.

"Skinny streak of nothing that you are, what do you think you're goin'a do?"

Donna got to her feet and brushed herself off. Her pantsuit was wrinkles and covered in dirt from the unvacuumed carpet.

"What are you even doing here?" she demanded and glanced at her wristwatch. It read five o'clock. "Did I sleep the whole day away?" Donna directed the question at Jane, much to Joshua's exasperation.

"I would not call passing out and having a seizure 'sleeping'."

"Yeah, well who asked you?!" Donna threw this rejoinder over her shoulder as she gathered her things.

"Come on then," Joshua lay a hand on Jane's shoulder and grabbed Donna's elbow. "Lets get you some coffee, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

Something about a man getting her coffee struck an uncomfortable chord with Donna, but still the inexorable pull of her boss' boyfriend's fussing ensured that Donna could not turn down the offer.

X

Meanwhile, the Doctor had at the very least discovered what was happening. Not- as per usual- it helped him solve anything. "We're stuck in a quantum helix."

"You could just say time loop," Martha said with a roll of her eyes. "I've seen Groundhog Day."

"No, a time loop is something totally different."

"How?" cut in Mickey.

"Shut up, I'm trying to explain. We're still moving forward, but time is twisting in a sort of coil. We're reliving the same day but the days themselves did actually happen. Time is still moving, except in this spot. The three of us, with traces of time energy-"

"From travelling on the Tardis," Mickey deduced.

"-are the only ones aware of it."

"So what do we do, Doctor?"

The Doctor pursed his lips into a thin, wrinkled line. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at empty space thinking. "Has anything come through the rift since you've been stuck?"

Martha and Mickey exchanged looks and simultaneously shrugged at the Doctor. "Sort of," Mickey mumbled. This elicited a very dramatic eyeroll and six skinny feet of indignant Gallifreyan pushing past them to leave the Tardis.

"Times like this, I miss Clara." He said out loud for the first time since she'd left.

"Times like this remind me of why I left," sighed Martha as the door closed between them. "They also remind me of why the prat needed me." She grinned gaily at her husband and nudged her head at the exit. His answering nod and grip on her hand made her heart race with excitement as they left the Tardis to once again run with the Doctor.

X

Donna didn't know how it had happened, but she was sitting across from her boss (and probably best friend)'s boyfriend and laughing harder than if she were watching Graham Norton. He may have been a tosser, but he was a funny tosser.

"And then she goes, 'Will you take a look at the tile grating in our bathroom? You'll absolutely die!'"

"_No._" she laughed. "I've never met a man who went so far as to _pretend_ they were gay to not sleep with me. Had a couple boyfriends who actually were though. You sure you're not?"

"You wouldn't mind breaking it to Maisie for me would you?"

Donna laughed so hard she almost choked on her coffee. Some dribbled down her chin and down her shirt. "Oh shit."

"Here," Joshua reached out with a napkin and dabbed at her chest, much to her wide-eyed consternation. He didn't even seem to register the action as odd. It didn't feel like a come-on?

She coughed and snatched the napkin from him, dabbing at the stain herself. She hurriedly changed the subject. "Is Jane always this way?"

The girl was sitting between them silently staring at her iPad, with earphones in.

"Yeaaaaaah," he replied with a sigh. "Kids, amirite?"

Donna patted the girl's knee in sympathy. Jane looked up for a confused moment before returning to her movie.

"Anyway, is everything alright with you Donna?" he laid his hand over hers and looked at her with empathetic eyes. And for once, Donna honestly believed someone cared about the answer beyond reasons of pity.

Her whole manner deflated. "Y'know, as alright as they can be."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He looked like the man in her dream, the one she trusted to find her and save her in that strange room that reality could not touch. His big sad eyes were familiar in a way that not many things in her life were these days. And his need to help was a salve.

And just like that the floodgates opened. "It started a couple years ago. I woke up to find a year had passed and I couldn't remember any of it. And everyone just kept looking at me with these sad eyes like 'poor pathetic Donna'-"

…

"-And sometimes I just know things that I should have no way of knowing. Like once, when I was still with Shaun, he pointed out this article in the paper about lady Vikings. And I was all "so wot?" and he said "I dunno, s'just interestin' that's all" and it was the weirdest thing but I could swear I'd already known that! I thought maybe there had been a series about it on the telly but when I googled it later- nothing! Isn't that-"

…

"-So I've been on medication for ADHD, depression, bipolarity, sleeping pills, and sometimes I feel like it hurts more than it helps y'know?"

…

"When I was out, I had this dream. I was in a strange room and a man was there. I think he was my friend. I think I knew him once."

…

For the next few weeks Donna and Josh met on Tuesdays and Thursdays for after-work tea or lunch, always chaperoned by the sensory-deprived Jane. She rarely spoke more than a word to either of them during these excursions, so it was as if it were just the two of them.

They had developed an easy rapport; jumping back and forth between teasing and chatting. He made her laugh and he was a good listener.

And who was Donna to turn her nose up at a friend when these days she had so little in common with the ones she'd had before?

X

The Doctor stood in front of the rift with Mickey and Martha in his wake. He had been rambling on to himself for a solid fifteen minutes and had not bothered to explain a word to his two former companions. His only acknowledgement of their existence were occasional mumblings about unobservant apes. If he only bothered to ask them…

Mickey sighed, tapped his foot and checked his watch. Any second now.

Martha abruptly called the Doctor.

"What is it now?" he asked, deigning to try to hide his annoyance at least a little for Martha's sake. He was determined to not be as much of a twat to her as he had been last time. He stopped pacing and gesticulated at her wildly with impatience. "Well?"

All of a sudden a hunk of metal shot out of the Vortex and hit the Doctor in the back of the head.

"12:47 and twelve seconds. Like clockwork."

* * *

><p><em>Next time: The Doctor and co. explore the quantum loop and Donna faces a moral quandary...<em>

Thanks for popping by! Reviews are always loved and encouraged, I love knowing where you guys think the story is going and how you feel about it.


	7. Maisie Insists

**a/n: Short chapter, but quick update! Hope it's a decent tradeoff.**

Steady as the Beating Drum  
>Chapter 7: <em>Maisie Insists<em>

X

"Hi there Doctor," chimed Donna as she entered the office at eight on the dot on Monday morning. "I brought us a spot of lunch today, had some leftovers from mum."

Maisie laughed and accepted the proffered Tupperware. "Thought you were free!"

"I may have my own flat now but I will never be free from Sunday dinners."

They good-naturedly chatted for a little while longer before going about their day.

Later, a little before lunch, Dr. Smith got off the phone and was off like a shot into the outer office. She sat herself on the edge of Donna's desk and fixed her with a penetrating stare.

"Oh shit. What did I screw up?" cried Donna. She anxiously began looking through her notes. Typical. And she'd been handling herself to well lately, she was even taking her medication regularly!

"Nothing, you just forgot to tell me something _extremely important."_

"Oh no." Donna felt sick.

"It's your birthday tomorrow?"

_What._

Donna flushed bright red even as her heart hammered in her chest. "Where did you hear that?"

"Got it from Joshua," triumphed Maisie.

This made Donna inexplicably uncomfortable. "I don't remember telling him that." Then again, they talked so much who could remember?

"He says you mentioned your last birthday at lunch the other day and he pieced it together."

There was something very very weird about this conversation.

"We're going to take you out. Do you have plans tomorrow?"

Unless Donna planned something herself, her birthday usually passed with little incident beyond whatever sized deal her grandfather decided to make about it. This year she had neither the energy nor inclination to set something up. "Free as a bird," she sighed.

"Perf, bring something nice to the office and we'll go from here."

"What about Jane? It'll be Tuesday." Jane spent every Tuesday and Thursday in the office.

Maisie waved her hand, untroubled. "Don't worry about it. Sounds alright to you though?"

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to." She knew she sounded less than enthused but the Good Doctor did not seem to notice.

* * *

><p><em>2009 (but not)<em>

Life aboard the Tardis was hard to keep track of. In the beginning Donna had kept a calendar in her room where she'd made arbitrary marks to count out the days, but she'd quickly lost track of days passing at all. She sort of just slept when she was tired- which wasn't often or regular. She was always too excited and anxious to move on to the next new world or time.

So when she woke up one morning to find the Doctor standing over her she screamed. Just a little.

"WHAT ARE YOU _DOING_ IN HERE SPACEMAN!?"

"Brought you breakfast," he said, untroubled. He had a big stupid grin on his face and looked oddly well groomed.

"…why."

"Weeeeell," he drawled, "thought it'd be a nice thing to do for your birthday."

"Do you celebrate birthdays on Mars?"

"For the last time, Donna: I'm not-" he sighed, "you know what? Never mind. Lots to do, big day planned." He placed the tray he'd been holding on her lap and leapt into bed beside her.

She covered her mouth in an effort to not slay him with her morning breath. "Thanks." All her favorites. She hadn't thought he'd been paying attention. She took a bite of strawberry waffle and positively moaned in pleasure. "Didn't know you could cook."

"I'm 904. I've figured it out."

"It's kind of hard to eat with the bed bouncing," she pointed out, bumping shoulders with him.

"Sorry," he had the decency to look a little chagrined. "I'm just excited."

"Where are we going?"

This was his favourite part, "First, beach day. No trouble, no running. Just a warm beach with an ozone layer intact enough that you won't turn into a to-mah-to," he enunciated, chuckling with good humor. "Then dinner on a satellite orbiting above a ringed planet. _Then_… guess."

"I'm not guess-"

"_Las Vegas_!"

"Which one?"

"What do you mean which one?"

"Well there's a New New New New New New New York. One was in France. Another was a whole other planet. Another, a solar system. So I ask again; which Las Vegas?"

"Weeeeell, there's actually only one Las Vegas. In 2202 it exploded."

"Wot?"

"Big mess, not a pretty affair, but no one wanted to invest in another one. It got a real bad reputation after the 2040 mutated syphilis outbreak."

Donna hummed in stunned acknowledgement; sometimes it was better not to ask.

When she was done eating and the Doctor had finished picking at her leftovers she got out of bed and stretched. The Doctor didn't move.

Donna sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning and began tapping her foot. He still wasn't getting the hint. Oh well, sod subtlety. "You gonna stay here while I change into my swimsuit?"

"I-I-I- um, no. No no no. I'm going to um-" his eyes were wide with fright and astonishment. In all honesty, the best gift he could have given her was this chance to poke fun at him. For a 907-year-old alien he could be such a kid. And such a bloke.

"Don't hurt yourself Spaceman. I'll meet you in the console room."

* * *

><p>Back in the 2011 Cardiff quantum helix in which the Doctor was 'presently' stuck, his patience was dwindling by the minute.<p>

"So I take it that this shoots out of the vortex every loop," he all but growled.

"Actually," Martha corrected. "_Something_ shoots out of the vortex every loop."

The Doctor looked down at the piece of metal that had beaned him in the head. "You mean you don't know what this is?" he asked with contempt. "It's a discombobulator."

"I _know_ what a discombobulator is. It's just not always a discombobulator. Yesterday it was a holophone. The day before it was just junk. We could have _told you this_ if you just _asked_." The litany of frustrated insults went unspoken.

"Well… shut up."

"Is that your new thing? 'Shut up?' I almost like the French better."

The Doctor chose to ignore her allusion to catchphrases. Sometime he just did not understand himself and the decisions he had made in the past. (Usually he felt this way about his wardrobe, I mean really, celery? But sometimes he remembered the stupid things he used to say. 'Timey wimey' for one thing. He shuddered to think!)

"So the rift on our side opens only at exactly 12:47 and twelve seconds. Different items fall through, which means there is change on the other side of the rift. So the quantum helix is spatially finite. Oh that is good! Very good! So we just need to see how far it springs."

"So if we drive far enough we'll eventually leave the time loop?" asked Mickey

"It's not a-!" The Doctor huffed and deflated, "No, if we leave the field then we'd be out of sync with the rest of time."

"And what does that mean?"

"You know how sometimes people think they see ghosts?" Martha chimed in. "It's that, poor souls just a moment out of time with the rest of us." She shivered. "I saw some things when I was working for UNIT."

"And if we were outside the loop when it came around again?" asked Mickey, shifting his gaze back and forth between his wife and the madman.

"We'd be out of sync forever," confirmed the Doctor.

"Great! New plan then."

* * *

><p><em>Next time: Donna comes to a startling realization and Martha and Mickey are sick making.<em>

So I finally took a look at the Doctor Who frontpage of FFnet. It's so strange, is it just me or has the fandom shrunk? There are almost no fics for Twelve at all! I'm new to the fic side of the fandom, has it always been this way?

Anyway, drop me a line to let me know how you're enjoying the story.

Cheers,

Fiercy


	8. Donna gets her swerve on

Sorry about the long wait, here's an almost double length chapter to make up for it. And it's plot heavy! (Yes, even with that title).

Just a warning. Something is going to feel very off this chapter. Trust me; read through until the end. Have I ever steered you wrong before? ;)

* * *

><p><span>Steady as the Beating Drum<span>

Chapter 8: _Donna gets her swerve on_

X

_2009 (but also not)_

Days on the Tardis invariably ended with Donna and the Doctor panting on the floor of the Tardis, sweaty and sore.

Birthdays were no exception.

"Really?!" Donna demanded, running a hand through her damp hair. "Why am I not even the slightest bit surprised? I can't take you anywhere.

"I dunno, I like to think we haven't gone stale," joked the equally moist Doctor. "Is this the part where you tell me we need to put the spice back into our marriage?"

"Please, you prawn. I am _never_ boring," a breathless laugh. "But seriously, is that what we're doing now? Going along with people's idiocy?"

"Why fight the inevitable?" he took her hand and squeezed. "Because someone's _inevitably _going to think that I mean. Not because I'm irresistible or anything, although it has been said before-"

Donna snorted. "Don't hurt yourself there, Doctor."

"Vegas, _Queen_ and a cult of humans infected with alien sex pollen. Just another day at the office, eh Donna?"

Running. There was an unbelievable amount of running involved. How had her life come to this?

"Yeah. By the way, I've got a bone to pick with you about all that."

Fine, so she'd ripped her dress when he'd slammed the Tardis doors to keep the sex-crazed lunatics out. But it was all for the greater good-! Oh. Oh no. She meant...

The Doctor sat up against the wall of the Tardis and ran a hand through his hair, giggling nervously. "Yeah? Didn't like your birthday gift?"

Donna joined him, leaning against his shoulder. "While it's probably the nicest thing that anyone's ever _attempted_ to do for me, I have to ask; how _exactly_ did getting Freddie Mercury to write a song about me turn into _Fat Bottomed Girls_."

Either way, he knew he was in trouble. So he just wiggled his eyebrows at her and put on his most mischievous and lascivious grin. "Well, you make _my_ rockin' world go round."

"Shove off you."

* * *

><p><em>2011<em> _(The relative present…)_

"Shove off Mickey, I'm trying to work something out here."

The Doctor unwound a wire from around what appeared to be a plunger box.

"Seriously, we have gotten nowhere in the past three days. You've just been walking circles around Cardiff, staring at your blippy thing. The only thing that's changed is the _hernia_ I got from trying to get the bloody Tardis onto a dolly."

"It's not my fault you were too dim to use the fork lift."

"How was I supposed to know there was a bloody forklift in the bloody Tardis?!"

"'Kay Mickey, enough now." Sighed Martha whilst glaring up at the sky, begging some deity to smite her on the spot. Or to smite the Doctor. Apparently her husband regressed ten years in maturity when he was around.

"Thank you Martha."

"Do not thank me Doctor, I do it for my sanity, not yours. Now what do you need?"

He thrust the old timey wooden plunger into her hands. "Take this, I'll ring you in an emergency. Don't pick up, just push it."

"…It's not going to blow up the Tardis is it?" she glanced at the beloved blue box and bit her lip.

"No, it just looks like that. It'll generate a counter pulse, the exact radius of the chrono helix's field, cancelling it out. Wait no, hold on." He took the plunger from Martha and thrust it into Mickey's chest, knocking the wind out of him. "You take this. Martha, you're coming with me."

The couple exchanged a look and Martha shrugged. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to see what Uto-tech is hiding."

Donna examined her reflection critically. Her hair was down and fell in tousled, artful waves. Curling it had made her realize how long it had been since her last haircut. She honestly couldn't even remember. She wore a royal blue dress she found in the back of her cupboard and her makeup was minimal. She kept trying to smooth the fabric at her waist, as if pressing on it would press in her fat. She sucked her teeth in displeasure at the fit.

A glance at her watch told her she'd keep Maisie and Josh waiting if she kept on like that, so she let the matter drop.

_Did I forget anything?_ She wondered, and grabbed her pills, just to be safe. It had been a while since she'd had a bad day, but you never know. It couldn't hurt, at least. She dry swallowed one with ease and put the rest in her clutch.

Out the door she flew, stopped only by a critical Sylvia's terse comments about the length of her hem.

"Mum. This isn't 1969 where not wearin' stocking's makes me the town tramp!" Donna argued through her frustration.

"No, getting married twice and neither sticking does!" Sylvia shouted back. Her eyes immediately bugged out at having mentioned the Lost Year. Capitals 'L', 'Y'.

But Donna was not in the mood to pick at her mother. "Look, I just want a nice dinner with my friends, can you _for once_ just leave me be?!" she ended on a high note.

Sylvia opened her mouth but was interrupted by the doorbell.

"That's weird," Donna mumbled, "Thought I told Maisie to just give me a ring when she's outside."

The door swung open to reveal Josh standing on her doorstep, looking dapper in a dark blue suit.

"Hallo there Birthday Girl."

"Hi," replied Donna, uncomfortable with the prospect of him being seen by her mother. "Come on then."

He stood there with a big dumb grin on his face.

"What now?"

"Oh Donna, you look lovely," he complimented- shit eating grin still in place.

"That is well bad Josh, don't poke fun."

"I'm not!" he insisted, "shall we?"

Donna rolled her eyes and took his proffered arm. "Don't wait up!" she shouted into the house and tried not to acknowledge her mother's quickly approaching (the snoop!) footsteps.

As they approached his car Donna noticed that Maisie wasn't in the passenger side. "Where's the doctor?" she joked.

"Oh, she's just delayed a bit. She'll meet us at the restaurant," Josh assured her.

Maisie had actually arrived at the restaurant before them and greeted them with an enormous toothy smile and hugs. "Happy birthday Donna," she gushed.

Good ol' Maisie. Sweet, beautiful and who apparently gave a shit or two about Donna. Excellent judge of character, that one!

They took their seats and Josh immediately launched into a one man show of mockery; from making fun of the waiters uniforms, to the pretentious names for food ("It's just a posh way of saying chicken and mashed potatoes!") to the froo froo couples all around them.

"Shut it you prawn, the waiter's coming!" Donna reprimanded, not really minding all that much.

After their orders were taken the night picked up even more. Donna regaled them with stories of temping; all the ridiculous people she'd met, the strangest ways she'd been told her services were no longer needed ("And then they brought in a cake that said 'Thanks Dona' WITH ONE 'N'!"). Josh talked about travelling, old schoolmates, ("Utterly mad, he was! We would get into all sorts of trouble, skipping out on lessons to run around the Wastelands by ourselves."). Maisie smiled prettily and absorbed it all.

It was terrible of her, but for long stretches of time Donna forgot she was even there. It was so easy, with Donna sitting in the middle of the two at a square table and Josh dominated the conversation, gesticulating wildly and excitedly; describing adventures he'd been on, with his good mate John, but mostly alone… Donna had subconsciously turned completely to stare at him, her head supported by an elbow on the table. "Wow," she would whisper at the appropriate times. "You didn't!" she would gush at scandalous tellings.

Joshua was the most fascinating man she'd ever met. He was wild, ridiculous, and most of all familiar. He was so like the man in her dreams. He haunted her in the pleasant way that childhood friends do. You think of them when you least expect it and the warm breathlessness of nostalgia grips you for just a moment before you go about your day. When she met him, the connection had been almost instantaneous. People like that; the ones that know you right away… They don't come along everyday do they? And when you find them…

When you find them you what?

Nothing.

Donna suddenly felt very sick. The cheery grin turned to a lopsided frown. Josh wasn't hers. Josh was Maisie's. Sweet, successful, wonderful Maisie, who gave her a job and listened to her problems, who was probably the best friend she had in this solar system.

_(Why did I think that? That's so specific, like I've got friends in another solar system; like the universe is bigger than here and now and it must be isn't it? Oritallmeansnothing. Oh god-)_

Donna felt a foot run up her calf.

She stood up sharply, a curtain of hair obscuring her horrified face. She almost upended the table with her urgency. "I need the loo!" she shouted, too loudly and raced for the back of the restaurant.

Waiters rolled their eyes and groaned internally. Some people just didn't know how to act in public! And those friends of hers didn't even seem surprised. They just sat there with placid expressions. She must do it all the time.

In the bathroom Donna took in quick, harsh gulps of air. She stared her reflection down, daring her counterpart to contest the oncoming lecture. "You are not in love with that man. What do you think this is, Eastenders? You think he's going to leave Maisie _for you_! Fat, thick, ill Donna. Can't hold a marriage together for more than a minute and you think _that_ is interested. Maisie is your friend. After everything she's done for you. Shame on you! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

She could feel the panic attack coming on and reached for her purse, but her hands were shaking so hard that it spilled all over the floor. On her quaking hands and knees she scrambled to pick it all up.

There was a knock on the door.

"OCCUPADO!" she shrieked.

The knocking persisted, tapping out an awfully familiar rhythm…

"I SAID-"

The door opened and in stepped Josh. _I could have sworn I locked that._

"This is the _ladies_!" she shouted, hands planted on her hips in an effort to seem menacing and not at all like she'd just been having the worst epiphany of her life.

"Yeah," he said, slightly breathless too. And in one swift move he was across the room and placing one hand on her lower back the other at the back of her neck.

And then he _yanked_.

They came together in a beautiful, calamitous collision. His clever tongue that could talk from dawn to dusk and vice versa danced with hers. He backed her up against the counter and all inhibitions and objection left her. She instinctually lifted herself onto the marble countertop to get a better angle and wrapped her legs around his waist as he sucked, nipped, licked and-

_Oh._

It had been so so long.

* * *

><p><em>Cardiff<em>

They went in through the loading docks, slipping through just as a truck pulled away.

Martha took the lead, drawing her gun and peering around corners before running in quick spurts. The Doctor followed at a more languid pace. "Where are we trying to go?" she whispered. It echoed against the linoleum floors, but it didn't matter. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the building.

"Power source. Down below."

They took the lift to the first basement level and switched to the stairwell for the subsequent three sublevels. It seemed to just keep going on and on, deeper and deeper.

"What do you think's going on Doctor?"

"The Tardis kept bringing me here." And the Tardis always knows best. "So there must be something going on that's worth checking out."

"You're not usually so paranoid. Is that this regenerations thing?"

"Thing? What are you talking about? I don't have 'things'."

"You do, like that weird high pitched thing you used to do with your voice."

"I have never done any such thing."

"Sure Doctor."

They finally reached the deepest level, Martha held her gun, poised and nodded her head at the door, signaling to the Doctor that he should go first and she would cover him.

He rolled his eyes at her and nodded, "One, two, three."

With aplomb he waltzed through the door and loudly proclaimed, "Who's in charge here?"

Martha nearly slapped her forehead. The idiot. Guns were being drawn, threats were being shouted. Martha came out of her hiding place and fixed the man in the center (who seemed to be in charge) in her sights. "Okay, everybody calm down. Let's not be hasty about this."

The man in the center wore a nice tailored suit. He was very tall, had dark brown hair that stuck up in front and a long skinny face. He also seemed very familiar to Martha; as if they'd met before. He stood in front of a control panel that was connected to a glass dome, where a storm seemed to be brewing within. Purple clouds swirled and dissolved and reformed, like they were in a blender. Blue lightning forked across it in intervals.

"Listen," said the Doctor with his _Negotiation Voice_. "I've got someone set to dispel this whole thing the moment I give the signal. Tell me what's going on or I'll pull that trigger."

Was he… giving the weird underground mad scientists an out? What the-

"Oh my dear Doctor," proclaimed the man with a flourish. "You have been naïve. You don't even know that you've already lost, or rather; _who_ you've already lost. "

The man's grin split across his face like a ripped seam, it was jagged, crazed, a little manic. And familiar.

"Say it," commanded the man. "You know how this goes. Say. My. Name."

The Doctor fell to his knees, knowing that all was wrong with the universe and finally, finally knowing why. "Master."


	9. The Doctor loses his cool

So those were some interesting revelations last chapter huh? Did it retroactively make a few things said make more sense?

* * *

><p><span>Steady as the Beating Drum<span>

Chapter 9: _The Doctor loses his cool_

x

"Now back on topic!" exclaimed the Master with glee. He leapt down from the platform and strode right up to the Doctor, who had gotten to his feet once again. The men surrounding them, cocked their guns, ready to fire at the slightest provocation. And as Martha had seen with her own eyes, all it took as a stray bullet to kill a Time Lord.

"What is the dear old Master doing _in Cardiff_?" he wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes at the name. "Any guesses? You, with the gun." He pointed at Martha.

"We _have met_," she muttered, exasperated. "I walked the bleeding Earth for Pete's sake."

"Yeah, sorry about that. All his companions kind of blur together after almost 1300 years."

"Blimey you're old!" gasped Martha. "Were you that old when I travelled with you or has it been a while?"

"Do you really think that's the pressing issue right now?"

"Yes yes yes," the Master clapped his hands and ran a hand through his flyaway hair. "I'd just like you to know that it's too late."

"Too late for what?"

"Why, for Donna of course!"

The Doctor inhaled sharply and narrowed his eyes. His hands which had been held up, fell to his sides and clenched into fists. Martha's eyes widened, her glance moving back and forth between the mortal enemies. "Donna, but she's-"

"Silly, dim and unsuspecting. But most of all: lonely. And lonely is a dangerous thing to be in the universe."

What happened next was something Martha had never seen before, not from the Doctor. Certainly not from this one. The Doctor leapt at the Master and punched him in the face. Two uniformed men with guns rushed forward and restrained him. He was pulled off the Master kicking and shouting incoherencies, which, now that she thought about it, must have been Gallifreyan.

"Doctor!" she hissed, "What is this, a schoolyard scuffle? Am I going to have to mend scrapped knees and a split lip next?"

He ignored her. "What did you do to her?! What did you do?"

Fear struck a blow to the Doctor's chest. Anything the Master could have done had already doomed her, he knew. But he had to know. Had he let her burn? Stood there smiling as she wasted away in overwhelming fear and crushing memories? Or had he struck her down like he had so many others. He wondered if Donna had died not knowing the truth. He wondered if Donna died unhappy.

"Nothing fatal," assured the Master in a way that made the Doctor wish it had been. "She's still useful."

Maybe it was coarse and indelicate, but Martha had learned to resort to sass when she was backed into a corner. She blamed the Doctor for this. "Great, chew the scenery some more there. Blimey, we get it. You're evil. Moving things along now now." Er, maybe she'd gone too far. But this regeneration left a considerable babbling vacuum. "You know, he kind of looks like you. The old you."

He was tall, skinny, had a long face and a pointy chin. His hair stuck up in front.

Oh no.

"And she's got it! Look at that, _look at that_. She's good, you should keep her."

"No thanks, I've got people who depend on me."

"Don't worry Doctor," the Master circled them like a shark. "She hasn't remembered, yet. But somewhere in her mind is trust, trust for the skinny Doctor who could show her impossible things and made her simple, useless life worthwhile. Humans are so easy to exploit, remind them of a loved one and they'll gladly stumble over themselves to get a taste." The way he said that made the Doctor want to hit him again.

"You can't have any real interest in her. Whatever you wanted her for as about me. Well you've got me. Now leave Donna Noble alone."

"Actually," the Master quirked an expressive brow and smirked. "For once, Doctor, this is not about you at all."

Donna and Josh returned to the table. Josh seemed perfectly relaxed, Donna was stiff as a board and Maisie seemed none the wiser.

She buttered her bread and chatted a little more animatedly than previous and for all the world looked perfectly happy.

Donna felt sick.

The rest of the meal passed with Maisie carrying the conversation and Donna staring into her full plate.

"Happy birthday to you!" someone began singing, which startled the redhead out of her stupor. Her eyes widened when they fixed upon a waiter carrying a tray laden with a candle-topped cake.

"Happy birthday dear Donna, happy birthday to you!" Maisie and Josh chimed together.

The flaming cake was set in front of her, she'd never felt more on the spot on her life.

"Make a wish," Maisie prompted.

_I wish this had never happened._ And then Donna blew out her candles.

"I actually have some news for you Donna," Maisie seemed so excited. It's such a shame Donna would have to quit and move to Timbuktu. "You've been with us for a few months now and you do such great work. I was wondering if you'd like to stay on permanently."

Oh no.

"Would you like that?"

Words failed her, "I-I don't know what t-to say!" she stuttered out. "I can't think of a single reason to say no."

She and Josh made eye contact.

She could think of a thousand, but none that she could give Maisie.

There was a man, not so very long ago, who was very handsome and very charming. He became one woman's everything, faster than she knew, and in six months, it all came crashing down.

Lance was not the first to betray Donna Noble, he was not the last. And he was by no means the most important.

When the Doctor came into their lives, he was in no place to be angry on behalf of a stranger's heartbreak. Sadness would do just fine then.

On all of the adventures they went on the Doctor never had the opportunity to be angry on Donna's behalf. Terrible things happened to her and him both in those times, but the anger never manifested; there was no one to direct it at. How can he be angry at a library and a little girl?

Anger does not cover the loathing he felt for himself when he betrayed Donna's wishes and took her memory.

But now, standing before his childhood friend, who cackled at darling, none-the-wiser Donna's expense, vitriol bubbled up in his chest. Donna Noble, brilliant, empathetic, infuriating Donna Noble, with her big threats and tirades and her bigger heart, was meant to have a good life.

She was supposed to be left alone to finally be happy. She was supposed to live to the ripe old age of 115, surrounded by adorable Shaun and Donna clones, loved, cared for and free of worry and regret.

The Universe _owed her_. The Universe owed no one apparently, not even the person who'd saved it.

The Doctor was now good and _properly_ angry.

"Master, you have no idea what you've done."

Serenity was placid on the Master's face. "I think you'll find that I know a lot more than you think I do." He licked his lips. "Didn't taste much like sardines."

Martha wrinkled her nose, completely missing the joke, but still on the same track.

The Doctor swallowed and pushed the buried memory of the 20th century kitchen deep down where he kept all his unresolved issues with women: in a little box marked 'not to be revisited'.

"How do you know about that?" he grit, peeking inside the mental box, just a little. Just enough to remember that he'd had no idea what to do with his hands.

The Master smirked, "That specifically? You told me."

When? Well, that was complicated, because it hadn't happened yet.

Well. Everything got a hundred times more convoluted with that notion introduced.

They were meeting the Master out of order, which could mean any number of things, but chief among them was that _he_ was the only one who knew how this whole thing ended.

_"Tardis?! That's not even a proper word!" _"Agatha Christie didn't go around surrounded by murders. Not really. That'd be like Dickens surrounded by ghosts… at Christmas!_" "Just trust me, jump!" _"I should do that more often… the detox, I mean." _"You were brilliant."_

Donna awoke in the middle of the night with a start. She took deep, heaving breaths and stared up at the white ceiling, counting heartbeats. She was sweating, but felt very cold.

Slowly, she got out of bed and donned a soft fleece dressing gown before putting on a pair of trainers. She grabbed her mobile and slid down the stairs as silently as she could manage.

Wilf was asleep on the sofa, in front of the telly when the door slammed (it stuck otherwise and refused to shut except in the hottest summers). He jolted to his feet and stumbled for the front door. He threw it open to find Donna skittering off into the night. He called her name.

She turned around for only a moment, her eyes were haunted. "Granddad. I remember. I remember the Doctor," she gasped before disappearing into the darkness.

"Donna!" Wilf shouted, uncaring if he woke the neighborhood. "Donna, come back!"

The old man tottered inside as quickly as he was able and practically lunged for the kitchen drawer to the left of the dishwasher. Inside were old receipts, bills and the Doctor's phone number.

The ansaphone picked up with a click, "Doctor! It's Wilfred Mott. Doctor, something has happened to Donna. She remembers you."

* * *

><p>Bit of a slow chapter, but it'll pick up next time in...<p>

_The Master Explains It All _

(Theories?)


	10. The Master exposits a lot

Steady as the Beating Drum

Chapter 10: _The Master exposits a lot_

x

Donna attacked the door with a barrage of attacks. And she didn't stop when the door opened. Her knocks and slaps assailed the tall, skinny man behind it with the righteous force of a woman wronged.

"You," slap, "STUPID!" slap, "SKINNY!" slap, "SPACEDUNCE!" and a sharp kick to the shins. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"Donna!" the Master exclaimed, warding off the assault to the best of his ability. "This is not cute, what are you doing?"

"Doctor, what did you do to me? Where did you go? Just because you get all sad last-of-the-Time-Lords and all that bollocks, does _not_ mean you get to take away my memories and drop me off where I came from." She spat this in his face so hard that she seemed to exhaust herself with the emotional effort it took.

"Donna, what do you remember?" asked the Master, tentatively.

"Midnight," she took a step forward and for the first time laid kind hands on his cheeks, cradling his face. "They were wrong about you."

"Oh Donna," he smiled crookedly. "I know now, I know how wrong I was. I found you; it's all right now. I promise." He was saying all the things he knew that she desperately wanted to hear from his old friend. The Master knew that he had her now; he had succeeded. All that was left was moving on to the final phase of his plan.

"But I swear, I didn't do this. Someone took you from me."

"Who?" she gasped, laying a hand over her heart. It was beating so fast, adrenaline surged through her veins. _What_ in the hell had happened to her?

"The Master." There was a long dramatic pause where he let his declaration sink in. "That's not all… Donna, I need your help."

"Me? What do you need my help for?" Donna demanded. "And what's the Master got to do with anything?" the Doctor had only mentioned him in passing, speaking of old memories from their days spent underneath two Gallifreyan suns. Martha had tetchily mentioned walking the entire (_bloody_) Earth once or twice…

"I don't know yet. He's the one who took your memories," he stroked his chin and appeared deep in thought. "How many times have I said 'Don't wander off'?" the git joked.

"Why should I listen to you? Apparently you make a habit of losing track of your companions! How many do I make?"

"That's not the point," the Master cut in, eager to get back to the point. "Donna, I need your help. Do you understand?"

"I don't see what I could do. I'm just a temp from Chiswick." She nudged him with her elbow.

The usual anticipated burst of "Brilliant!" did not come; the man who she thought was the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Must be serious," she misinterpreted. "What do you need, Doctor? Of course I'll help you."

He smiled.

* * *

><p>The real Doctor was ready to tear his hair out. He had neither the time nor patience for their usual toxic brand of banter. Martha didn't mind; she was having a grand time filling the sass vacuum.<p>

"You go around seducing earth girls now? Long way to fall from total planetary dictatorship," Martha was saying. The Doctor was glad he'd brought her; she was very bright. Keeping the Master talking was the trick with him. Too bad that he was in no mood for the self-restraint necessary to do it himself.

The Doctor continued to seethe over the implications of the conversation. It's all very not-at-all set in stone, but in the current timeline _he_ at least got through this. (And apparently had a heart to heart with Koschei about his vast array of issues with women). But it was not himself who the Doctor was worried about.

Enough was enough.

"Enough is enough!" hm. Alright… that could have been put better. The Doctor held up Martha's mobile and tried to look calm and threatening. "If you don't tell me what your plans are, I'm ending this loop. All I need to do is press this- wait." He looked closer at the device. "Martha, this is a smart phone."

"So?" she demanded in exasperation.

"So I need your code, could you-?" he rolled his eyes and twitched his entire body in the process before whipping out the sonic. "It's fine, alright." A buzz and it unlocked. "There. I have someone on the other end of the line that will end this loop at my say so," he threatened through clenched teeth.

"Do it," The Master dared. He licked his teeth and grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

"I will."

"I'm telling you to."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and dialed the most recent number. It rang. And rang. Then went to voicemail.

"Hold on." He held up a finger and rang Mickey again. This time he picked up.

"Hello? Did it work?" he asked.

The Doctor slumped. "No. Did you push down the plunger?"

"Yeah."

"All the way?"

"Yeah Doctor."

"Did you accidentally unplug it maybe?"

"_No_. It just isn't working. What do I-?" The Doctor hung up the phone, cutting him off.

Yards away, the Master was smirking in a self-satisfied manner. "Hate to say I told you so."

* * *

><p>Donna followed the Master back to the office. It was the middle of the night and the milling denizens of the London hub were missing from the familiar scene. It was eerie, like visiting a famous person's grave. You know a lot about this man or woman who used to occupy space in the world, and are visiting the space they now occupy in the ground; it's all downright weird.<p>

"Ok, now that I've had time to think about it all, I'd really like to give you a good kick. I mean, what exactly do you think you're doing, waltzing on in here and not explaining a damn thing."

Inwardly, the Master rolled his eyes at her chatter.

"Like who's Maisie? Is she your companion? Because excellent choice." _And now I feel a lot less weird about what happened between us. _Donna bit her lip and contemplated the awkward situation. She'd all but shagged her best friend. _Well shit._

Meanwhile, the Master was mildly put out at having to actually tell Donna the truth about any aspect of his plans. _'Companion… that would have been better.'_ But he couldn't very well change their story now. She might realize something was amiss.

"No, er, Maisie's… a little hard to explain. It'll make more sense when we get there."

"When we get _where?_"

Just then, they arrived at the R&D department's back anterooms. He typed in a six-digit combination (which she mentally catalogued, as all assistants do, whether they admit it or not) and the doors opened with a _whoosh_ of changing air pressure.

Inside, there was no one. It was circular and at the very center was a familiar console, reminiscent of the Tardis. It had a disestablishing mechanism bobbing up and down within a glass column. The words came to her, but Donna could find no meaning in them. She felt afraid and a little lost in this vast room full of half-familiar alien devices.

"I think now's a good time to start explainin'," she huffed, trying to cover up her unease.

"Sure, of course," the Master conceded but did not elaborate.

"Any day now sunshine."

"Right!" he snapped back to his place in front of her so quickly that he almost fell ankles over shoulders. "Questions?"

"Yeah. WANNA TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

He reared back and blinked. The Doctor actively chose to take this one with him? Or did she bully him into letting her aboard?

"Er…"

And then after some feigned need for prompting the Master explained.

"The Master separated us and kidnapped you. I searched everywhere, but when I found you, he'd already made you forget me." He made a great show of looking devastated, drawing on his brushes with the Doctor's sentimental side. "I've just been travelling since then."

Donna's head tilted to the side as she regarded him through narrowed eyes. The Master expected a little yelling about that, before he could eventually get to his point. "I'm glad you found someone," she said with sincerity. "You seem happier, alright." If he hadn't already established a strong link to her mind he wouldn't have known about the hurt she was hiding. He didn't know why she bothered hiding it- for the Doctor's benefit he supposed. The Master had never bothered to hide his emotions to spare anyone's feelings.

"I've been alright," he assured the ape. "I wouldn't have come back, but I need your help."

Donna bit her lip and nodded as if she understood, she took his hands in hers. "Anything Doctor, what do you need?"

He leaned in very close; close enough for them to share breath. He held steady eye contact and pressed two fingers into her left temple. "I need that big brain of yours."

She snorted. "_No_."

"I'm serious."

"Ha!"

"Donna, I need your help to bring back Gallifrey."

She stopped laughing.

* * *

><p>Sorry this took so long. Exposition is a real slog, I'm telling you. Thanks for reading!<p> 


End file.
